King's Son: I'm not helpless BDB
by Morgan Bell
Summary: She was a symphath,vampire and maybe even more than that."Call me whatever you want,but you should know that if you say something like that again,you and your friends will become French fries as soon as the sun is up."She threatened Zsadist with a dagger.


Yay, women are not helpless anymore =)) 

This was written in a hurry. It has some mistakes, I'm sure of it. I'm not even an native English speaker :)) You've been warned.

* * *

**King's Son**

**- I'm not helpless -**

**Disclaimer: BDB belongs to J.R. Ward completely. Kara and Evan (Avehrse) are mine.**

"I always had strong feelings of abhorrence for those who treated females like they were nothing. Call me whatever you want, but you should know that if you say something like that again, you and your friends will become French fries as soon as the sun is up."

As you can see, I am a passionate person. After all, anger is a type of passion as well. Only that anger feeds the hate, then hate becomes a prime material for pain. Pain is the reason fear exists. And you know what ? Fear results chaos.

I held the unsheathed dagger I stole from the blondie in the corner in front of me, the real proof that I was absolutely not joking 'bout this one. The fire that was burning inside of me was already showing through my glare. The _symphath_ in me turned my eyes red for sure, because the looks the shellans were giving me were nowhere near gentle, nor calm. Except for one. A tall female, with long black hair. She was looking at me and at the scarred Brother in front of me expectantly, like it was a matter of time until I got my head ripped from my body. Or worse.

The male that I was treating already pulled his upper lip back, baring his fangs at me. His lifeless eyes pierced right through me. My hand gripped tightly the dagger, ready to move out of the way in case he decided to sprung at my neck. But he didn't. Instead, I realized that he was being held back by his brother, whom encircled his arms around Z's waist and held him in place. A larger body blocked my view of the two males.

"Take them outta here, Rhage." Another Brother came into my peripheral view as he took large steps toward me, determined to disarm me.

The blond male, whom I stole the dagger from, spared me another untrusting glance as he took the females out of the room. The brunette looked back over her shoulder as she turned right and then disappeared into the hall.

"One way or another, Kara. You know them too well." It was Vishous. He spoke seriously as he gazed at me from under his eyebrows. He was frowning deep, one of his hands was extended toward me, palm upwards. If he was trying to make me put the dagger down, he was a sick son of a bitch.

"None. And you know it." I took a few steps back, never taking my eyes from his. I adopted a crouched position in front of the mother with the little boy in her arms. I needed to protect them. This was the biggest mistake I have ever made. What was I thinking when I brought the dying boy and his mother here? Oh yeah, I thought that maybe _the Brotherhood _had a soul. But now I saw that they were just like the male who almost killed the little boy. Uncaring.

"Think about what Rehv would say -"

"Fuck Rehvenge!

That's when something hit me so hard that the dagger flew from my hand. I barely had time to register what was happening when I felt my body pinned down to the mosaic floor of the foyer by an arm. It was pressing down onto my clavicle, immobilizing both of my shoulders. Another arm was holding my free hand from reaching the gun I held hidden at the back of my jeans, under the belt.

When I did a move to free it, the pressure of the male's arm became unbearable and a growl erupted from his throat. It resonated through the room in a way that it gave me the sensation of fading out.

"Usually, I don't hit females, but you're an exception," The words were nowhere near understandable. "The only one."

Voice so powerful. The sound of blood cursing through veins… mine, his. Only then I realized who was holding me down to stop me from hurting anyone. The King.

Around us, the symphony of sounds combined with emotions gave me power. I felt invincible. I felt like I could kill everyone. Anyone. And this was **hate. **Hate deeper than everything I ever felt against them.

A shudder went deep into my core and at the same time rage built through me. A new wave of tension passed through my body until I found the renewed strength to push him off of me.

"You can say that again." And with that, I took the gun out and shot without a target. The scream of the mother rang through my ears. **Fear.**

I caught the glimpse of another male that came toward me with such speed and force that when it hit me, my lungs almost exploded from the pressure. I hit my head hard. My vision became blurry. **Pain. **

Once the gun was out of my hand, I cuddled into a ball at the feet of the attacker. That got him thinking that I was surrendering, but I was just desperately looking for my gun. When I spotted it near his left shitkicker, he tossed it aside with one single movement of his foot.

"**Stop." **The voice got me looking up. I couldn't help but notice his long legs, tight hips, broad shoulders. And all that hard muscle under his leather clothes. I had just two words for him: _Sex_ and _metal_. Daggers, guns and all that shit almost got me dizzy at his toes. But I was a fighter also. And if those S&M guys won't take the mother and her dying child in, then I won't go down without a war.

I had a shock when the King was taken out of the room by Vishous and Butch. I heard their shouts. The invincibility I felt wasn't mine. Once the Blind King was gone from this room, I felt my weakness. The power was Wrath's. He shared nothing with me, and now I knew I was deceived by the _symphath_ in me.

"I said **stop**!" The voice who spoke earlier, the dark-haired Brother who looked down at me through the curtain of his hair, was now kneeling next to me. His hard stare was right on my face.

My heart fluttered at the thought of being understood. And without knowing, the words I repeated over and over again in my head were spoken aloud.

"Please, they need a doctor." My voice was hoarse and that's when I felt my eyes burn with tears. I looked down ashamed.

A thumb touched my chin, pulling it up so a pair of dark blue eyes looked into my own. Then a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"You could've said this from the beginning, but you had to throw a tantrum, didn't you? "

* * *

He attacked her, and had her immobilized in less than a second. Just for a second. The pure irony was not on her side, anyway.

The symphath seemed out of control. A major emotional outburst had everyone in the room trying to rip her head off. Hell broke loose when she broke free from his grasp and picked her old .44 Magnum up and pulled the trigger. If Vishous wouldn't have pushed Wrath out of the way, the King would've achieved a bullet between the eyes.

Once he stopped her, she craddled down to the ground looking for her gun. He pushed it aside when her hand shot out to take it. With a liquid movement, he came to the same level as her, kneeling down.

"Please, they need a doctor." Evan looked into her eyes, his hand holding her head in place.

"You could've said this from beginning, but you had to throw a tantrum, didn't you? "

"His… fault." The words came out fast, before he even had a chance to finish his sentence. Evan knew who "he" was. Zsadist. That man couldn't keep his words at bay when he needed to.

"What did he do?" He asked, but he already sensed the answer.

"I... came here… for help. They.." she pointed in the direction of the woman . She was tall, brown haired and had a blonde boy cradled up to her chest. He wasn't breathing normally. His heartbeat was slower than the normal. She was a civilian vampire and she showed signs of violence, like bruises and deep cuts, all over her skin. The kid had a swollen eye and a broken arm. Maybe a few broken ribs too, but he wasn't sure how bad the internal damage was.

"They need help, I get it. Jane will see them in a few. " With that, he nodded toward Phury who stood at the entrance and glared at the pool of blood who laid on the foyer's floor.

"That… friend of yours. Z." Kara continued speaking, even though she needed to rest. Evan felt obliged to cut this short and make her shut up before he had to tell her to do so.

"Yeah. What's with him?" his nonchalant way of asking questions masked the urge in his voice to slap a hand over her mouth.

"He sees women in a bad light. I don't… like it."

Evan chuckled.

"Well, as far as I know, he sees everyone in a bad light." And with that, he hoped that the female would fall asleep. She may have asked a few questions after this, but he kept silent.

Evan helped the woman up, but seeing that her body was now weakened by both the loss of blood and the exhaustion, he placed one arm at the back of her knees and one on the small of her back.

"Let's get you cleaned up and settled." He walked in the direction of the door. The weight of the symphath in his arms was unnaturally small. She was only bones and skin. For a moment, he felt the desire to feed her, to bring the healthy blush into her cheeks .

Just when he was about to turn right and to take her upstairs, on the second floor, maybe into his room, Phury's voice brought him back to reality.

"What happened here?"

Evan felt a smile plaster to his lips.

"We threw a party." And he continued walking.

* * *

I don't know what happened after I lost control. I had flashes of someone. Black hair. Straight nose and thin lips pulled into a hard, thin line. And midnight blue eyes. Those eyes…

Then the feeling of hot water rushing over my skin was a bliss.

A body pressed against mine. Fingers massaging my scalp.

A towel and a comfortable bed. And that was all that I needed to fall back into a deep slumber.

I woke up after a few hours. It's only in sleep that I was relaxed and with my guard down. During my resting, everything could harm me, but the other side of the bed was still warm and it proved to me that someone actually sat there during the night and watched over me.

Then I came to realize the fact that this room wasn't mine. As I slowly got up from where I laid, a door cracked open. My eyes darted in that direction only to meet a pair of dark blue ones.

"'Morning, sunshine. Woulda like some tea and some French toast? Or maybe some cheese. Instead of tea, I can offer you milk. What do you say?"

I felt my stare drop toward the food tray. Everything he mentioned was there, along with other twenty or so things. I felt myself blush.

"No, thank you. I'm not -" my stomach protested loudly. " - hungry." I brought my hand to my tummy and pressed down hard. "I really have to check the kid's state." As I got up, I realized that I was going nowhere. My clothes weren't in their place - on me. And Evan knew that.

"Sit. They had to be washed. Eat, I'll bring you new ones." He set the tray on the bed then got out into the hall in a hurry.

I stared after him a few seconds, wondering if he knew something that I didn't. The child had two options: die or live. His body almost chose to die, and I was hoping in a desperate way that the other side of my symphath would not be needed. Bringing dead back to life wasn't something that many would choose to do for a living.

I sighed, trying to ignore the aching pit I had inside of me.

Determined not to touch the food, I went into the bathroom and turned the light on. The room was huge. It had a shower _and _a bath tub big enough for ten plus me. That's how big it was. A huge mirror was on the parallel wall, above the sink. I couldn't help but recognize my face under the mess of hair I had . Green eyes stared back at me. A few facial bruises, also. Some cuts here and there across my arms, neck… But nothing too serious, even though I fought against vampire warriors.

My nature was weak. I was still a human, only a short time until I'll go through my transition. And probably Evan already sensed it, he had a weird behavior . A vampire-to-be person who was also a symphath. What a rarity. In Caldwell there were just two other symphaths I knew about, one of them was known under the name of Xhex and was probably standing under the same roof as me right now.

I got out of the bathroom, shutting the light off. Evan was already inside the room with a pair of worn-out feminine jeans and a t-shirt. Not my clothes, obviously.

Without sparing him another glance and without saying anything but a "thank you" for the food and a "thank you" for the clothes, I got dressed and ate a piece of French Toast. I did it so my stomach will not make any strange sounds for a few hours.

"I'm going to see the boy now."

Evan nodded, watching me exit the room.

The links between me and the Brotherhood were strange enough. I could say that I was one of the occasional visitors, somehow like the Chosen, Layla. Except that I knew almost everything that was happening in the Brotherhood's mansion.

I prayed to the Scribe Virgin not to meet Wrath or other warrior on my way to the medical office. That would have got me killed in the first place, but thanks to the King's son, I lived through another night.

* * *

He wished he had more time, though he felt the stinging thirst in the back of his throat at the thought of that perfect shaped S of her body. That long neck with milk white skin, those eyes, those lips… those breasts and those long legs that carried her through this area with quick, long strides. Oh, and that ass! Her assets were no joke, but a call to every male, including him.

There was a flash of him kneeling down on the bed, hovering over a very naked Kara. The memory was from last night, when he washed her body and when he let her sleep next to him through the whole night. He knew that if he let her sleep in one of the free rooms, she was dead by the morning. Shooting her gun toward the Blind King would get her killed sooner or later. He had to protect her from his Father.

The thirst could wait a little longer, right now he needed to get in the shower. And a soap would be more than okay, fast.

She was human, but not for long. The thought of her going through the transition and him not being able to help her in any way had him standing on the edge of his seat. More time added to his side was only a mere prolongation of his impatience. Wrath had him all secured and everything. It was a helluva problem.

How much time did she have? A few weeks. A month, maybe. He smelled her from a long way downtown and he was sure that when the moment of truth will come, not even the Omega will stop him from tearing every fucking barrier down to be next to Kara and help her through the transition. He knew what a bitch the transition was. He's been through it himself, a few years back.

Fastening his pace, he passed a few doors and went down the stairs. Absent mindedly, he opened a door and walked down the corridor staring blankly ahead. Then he stopped. His ears intercepted a cry and the vague smell of oranges hit his nose. Could it be possible that Kara was - he thought no more. With two steps, Evan reached the door that separated him from the medical office. Havers was in there, too. Along with a tall, brown-haired woman. His hand pushed the door farther as he tried to see what was happening. Kara kneeled down next to the one - person medical bed in which a child was lying. Her hand was entwined with the kid's. None of them were breathing. She had her back at him and she didn't seem to acknowledge his presence in the room. She kept murmuring strange words.

Havers looked in his direction for a moment, but then his face shot back to the scene that was running in the middle of the room.

The kid was dead. No beating heart.

* * *

I held those small and thin fingers in my hand, not bothering about their temperature or texture, they were always cold and dry. That helped me thinking that the little child wasn't really somewhere far away, lost in the Fade, but alive and well. I kept talking, saying to myself that these were healthy hands gripping tightly my own hands, twice bigger than his. I touched them, I felt them somewhere deep inside, near my heart. They roamed in me like windswept snowflakes on a water surface. They were hot and cold at the same time, ghosts left behind by Father Time.

Two seconds in the past became four. Then four became six, and then eight. Then ten, and so on. Time passed before I knew that I was pressing my frozen body closer to the ground, with my limbs bent at weird angles. Some may call that a crouched position.

The air in the room kept humming at my ears unknown lines. Melodies that kept me going.

The contrast was extremely visible. Outside: unmoving, uncaring, blank. Inside: fighting hard to keep the soul linked to the body, through any possible ways.

The links were thin wires that connected me to the boy. It was like they were made of satin, only much more breakable. They were encircled around my wrists, feet, neck, strands of hair. I was covered by them. Their power was absorbed by my skin like water by cotton, even though my mind kept screaming at me that this wasn't my energy, but someone else's. I was killing, not saving. My true nature kept coming out at bad times.

I touched them with my mind, first testing the hardness of the dark floor I was standing on, then stepping forward as slowly as I could without breaking any energy links that connected me to the boy's soul. I couldn't see it, even though I knew somehow it was still there, in the darkness, under my feet. Except the small boy wasn't there anymore. And then I started feeling like I was floating. The links ceased. They broke, one by one. The soul was pushed farther into the darkness, further in time.

Seconds passed, and with each one I became more agitated knowing that I couldn't let that soul disappear.

I became numb.

The links were gone, except one. One white line that was helplessly snaking up my arm. I drew it back to me with force. I jumped startled as a weird sound came from the white stain that was called a Soul. It had the resonance of a source closed in a box.

As if feeling my powerful pull, the stain of energy came toward me. The sound was getting higher, clearer than before. No more distorted. Pitched and too aggressive for my ears, then it gained a steady pace, a rhythm.

Neon lights hit my eyes, then a surprised gasp at my left made me turn my head. It wasn't a scream, but heart beats counted by the machine next to the hospital bed in which was lying the nine year old boy. His mother was staring wide-eyed at me, as if I was a walking miracle.

"Thanks God!" A relieved voice breathed on the back of my neck, then I saw Havers enter my visual field. He was holding up some papers with his right hand, and with the other one he checked the IV wired to the boy's arm.

My heart skipped a beat as a pair of clear blue eyes set on me. I saw the child's mouth corners twitch up into a smile, as he barely whispered a sincere thank you in my direction. Not long after that, his mother's body blocked my view as she took him in her arms thanking God over and over again, and asking if he was alright.

Havers' hand shot up and caught my shoulder before I had a chance to turn around and disappear into the hall.

My eyes met his expectantly. I was sure that he was gonna say something, he just kept fixing me with his stare, and then at some moment, he nodded toward me with respect. I nodded back.

I turned around without sparing a single glance toward Evan, who stood there in the doorway all the time, since I entered the room. I felt the stare of those blue eyes at my back, but I turned left and went down the hall.

"Care to join me?" I asked over my shoulder at the man who surely followed me closely. His gigantic frame was shadowing over my back like a wall between me and the light.

"Where're you goin'?" He asked with a nonchalant tone that brought a smile to my lips.

"Kitchen. I'm hungry." And with no more words, I disappeared into the office then into the tunnel with Evan on my heels. Our target: the kitchen.

After we prepared a couple of turkey sandwiches which contained butter, some salad and a few tomato slices, we put them on two different plates. I grabbed a napkin as I passed by the counter then we sat down at the table. As soon as my butt hit the chair, Evan had his mouth full with the delicious turkey. He was bent over the plate and was holding the food with both of his hands. He looked up and grinned at me, the food in his mouth peeking a little. Talk about table manners…

I placed my hand over my own sandwich, but I couldn't bring it up toward my mouth because I stared at the man in front of me. Except, I wasn't surprised, but amused. I brought my hand back, then I got up and moved toward Evan.

"First, when you eat you keep your mouth closed." I pushed my index finger against his chin, forcing his mouth shut.

"Then, you keep your back straight, " One hand pushed his right shoulder backward, toward me, then my other hand, which rested on his back, pushed forward to straighten it. His spine crackled a little and I smiled pleasantly.

"After you did this, you move with your chair nearer the table, so your food won't fall on the floor. Fritz would rip your head off of your shoulders before you blink. He just mopped the floor. And that's it."

I darted back toward my place, and just as I sat down, I saw him motion something with his hands toward me.

I felt like I was teaching table manners to a kid, not to a full grown man. I couldn't fight the need to reply something to him, so I said on a harsh tone like my mother used to say to me:

"Chew, swallow, then talk. No sign language." And I began eating.

After we finished, we cleaned our mess. Well, I helped Evan clean his mess. Mine was constituted by just some bread crumbs. The silence between us shortly became eerie.

"So, what did you use to do for a living?" The man looked up from the dishes that were now washed and fixed me with his midnight blue stare. The color which reminded me of the Brothers' daggers. The same dark blue as their deadly blades. For a moment there, I felt the metal pierce the skin of my neck and blood tickle down my clavicle and onto my breasts, staining the white shirt I wore. It wasn't just the sensation, it was the memory. A thing that actually happened and that brought me closer than ever to the male in front of me. His dark hair was flowing onto his shoulders like a river of darkness. It had a diamond's sparkle attached to it in the neon lights of the kitchen.

The muscles in his back were flexing under his tight T-Shirt as he picked up the two china plates and put them in their places, then his long and thick hands moved toward the kitchen towel hanging next to the sink to wipe his fingers on it.

"Teaching."

"So you were a teacher?" He asked with a mask of surprise on his face.

"Uh-uh." His large body leaned against the fridge. He crossed his arms against his chest and his ankles. The tattoo that Evan had on his left wrist looked more like a bracelet than anything else. I easily recognized the Old Language characters. They were beautifully carved in his skin, spectacular swirl work. It said _Avehrse_.

His voice pulled me back to reality.

"What did you teach? Martial Arts?" He asked, eyeing my body like a hawk. Suddenly, the over-sized t-shirt which I was wearing seemed too small for me and I silently cursed myself for not wearing a bra. The worn-out jeans that covered just my butt and feet held no warmth anymore. I knew that my body was hard muscle and all that, but if I were Evan, I wouldn't have guessed that these were gained by years of practicing Martial Arts. I would have said that, dunno, I was over-obsessed with looking good and going to the gym. I felt the muscles in my thighs twitch at the sight of him watching me with that intense gaze. Maybe that kind of guessing was the result of working hard to keep his body in shape, himself.

"No, I learnt those over the years, thanks to a few courses held in town. I realized I needed them when one of my colleagues entered a deep coma after he was beaten by his students." I sighed, remembering good ol' Mark Daves. He was a handsome man. Tall, wide shoulders, long and thick legs, sculpted features. He was always trying to fix his problems in a calm and rational way. That time, he lost it. When a teen got an F in one of his tests, he came to Mark to ask for explanations. But not alone.

"So what happened to that friend of yours?" Evan pressed. It was a hint of annoyance in his voice, and his emotions floated toward me through the air. Was he thinking that I had a relation with one of my fellow teachers? And even if I had, why would it bother him? Not that he was my lover, anyway.

"He died." I stated simply, with a grim look on my face. I shrugged my shoulders and spun on my heels to break the eye contact. "But I'm out of teaching now, as you probably already stated."

"Yeah…" Evan paused for a long moment, seeming to balance his thoughts. He weighed his words before speaking, and when he spoke, he did it on a more serious tone than before. He gave me a feeling that he cared and that he knew what he was talking about. He just needed me to confirm it. "What was with that resurrection in the medical office, Kara?"

That's when I looked back at him over my shoulder and I felt my whole frame shaking at the recent memory.

'_It is a gift_.' I should have said it aloud, but I couldn't. I vowed to Scribe Virgin that I would keep my mouth shut and I will not say a word about what it truly was and what it meant. The price of having it was already higher than what I could allow. My mother, my father, my brother and my sister. They were all gone because of it.

My face must have hardened its expression because the man in front of me frowned deeply. His long hair became a curtain for his face as he pressed his chin into his chest, thinking hard. If he was confused with something that had a connection with me, then he would find out every little detail of my past, and I didn't need him to know _everything _about mewhen I knew nothing about him. The butterflies in my stomach became more agitated.

Once again, the _symphath_ in me created the channel of emotions between his and my own states. It was like a short sip of refreshing water. I felt the power in his mind, the energy that his blood carried, the links that our earlier conversation created between us and the bridge that brought me into him. Just a touch of his soul and I'll get more powerful than ever. Just the shadow of my fingers across that white stain of raw energy that radiated through him. Just that, and nothing more… One inch and his soul will be mine…

Suddenly, it felt like the world shattered down into pieces. My mind flew back to where it belonged and my eyes, now red, stared into pools of blue that emanated anger. He blocked me out, creating a wall between us.

"Control yourself, _symphath_." He growled menacingly, though I could say that he was not going to kill me. His body sprung from where it stood and it pushed me up against the parallel wall, knocking a chair out of our way with his heel.

"Do that again, and I swear that next time you'll think twice before you'll reach out toward my mind." Avehrse warned through his gritted teeth.. He pushed his cheek against mine and whispered in my ear. "You really don't want to find out what's on my mind." One of his fang scratched my skin but not hard enough for blood to spill. With that, he thrusted his hips into mine and for a moment I felt his erection through the thickness of his jeans. He spun on his heels and with a ferocity that reminded me of a panther he almost exited the kitchen. Almost.

I found my voice and I pronounced the first words that my mind whispered to me.

"It's part of me, Avehrse. The ability of resurrecting is half of what I am, along with the _symphath_ nature."

With that, he listened no more. He vanished, he dematerialized.

* * *

One of the things that he hated was someone reading him like an open book. It made him feel weak, at the mercy of somebody. He was going to be a leader. His father would have killed the one who did this to him by now, but he couldn't. Why? Because he was sure that the _symphath_ he left behind was his mate.

His body was tense, he needed a release. It was the second time today. Seeing that outside was already night, he chose the violent way. Hunting lessers.

"Yo Avehrse, you ready?" Rhage, clothed all in leather and steel, made his way toward the foyer. The muscles in his body working smoothly under his skin as he moved with lethal grace and power. His blond hair was cut in asymmetrical layers, his bangs covered the forehead and his burning stare was surely fixated on the door like he wanted to bring the bitch down.

"Sure man." As Evan advanced toward the exit, he spotted Z's shitkickers at his side. Zsadist's face was turned toward Bella as he gave her a small peck on the lips and went in Evan's direction.

"Z, you comin' too?"

The scarred man gave Avehrse a smile which would have terrified every enemy by now.

"Sure as hell."

With one last thought of Kara, Evan went out in the chilling wind of February. The excitement got him throbbing with need. In every possible way.

"Tonight, let's bring those fuckers down!" and just like a panther, moving swiftly through the darkness and carrying all the ammo he could, he let his instincts take over. With two of the best friends and warriors by his side, he felt like the world was his.

* * *

Should I write more stories with Kara and Evan? :]


End file.
